


Can I Keep You?

by Jedi Buttercup (jedibuttercup)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Acceptance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Family, Gen, Season/Series 02, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-29
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-06 09:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedibuttercup/pseuds/Jedi%20Buttercup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After killing Angel, Buffy runs to Los Angeles... but she doesn't stay there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can I Keep You?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KerrAvonsen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KerrAvonsen/gifts).



> B:tVS through 2.22 "Becoming, Part 2". SG-1 post 2.02 "In the Line of Duty". Also fills a [TtH Challenge](http://www.tthfanfic.org/Challenge-1435/The+Mother+Child+Reunion.htm) by MrGordo.
> 
> More a collection of short stories than one longer one, so it's marked complete, but I won't completely rule out further continuations in future.

Buffy climbed down from the bus that had taken her to Colorado Springs, a duffle bag containing all her current worldly possessions slung over one shoulder, and sighed. She'd been traveling for more than a day now, ever since she turned in her notice at the cafe in Los Angeles, and she was exhausted. If she'd had any spare money, she'd have started looking for a hotel-- but it wasn't even dark yet, and besides, she'd promised herself to save at least enough for a bus ticket back and another week's rent at her old apartment, just in case things didn't work out here.

It wasn't like Dr. Carter had any idea she was coming. She might not want Buffy to stay with her; there had to be a good reason she'd never got married or had a family. What would she want with a teenage dropout who didn't even legally belong to her anymore?

Buffy shook her head at that pessimistic thought, and pulled a much-worn streetmap out of her pocket. It wasn't like the woman who _did_ have a legal claim on her wanted her, either, and it couldn't hurt to try. Nothing Dr. Carter had to say could possibly hurt as much as the things her mom-- the things Joyce had said to her that last night in Sunnydale.

_I am your mother, and you will **make** time to explain yourself._

_You walk out of this house, don't even **think** about coming back!_

Her friends would probably say Buffy was overreacting, running away, but her friends didn't know. She'd never told them. It wasn't just the Angel thing, though that was part of it now; how could she stay there in the same town where she'd had to kill her boyfriend? Even if she hadn't killed Angel, though, how could she ever have gone back? The last time she'd started talking about vampires and Slayers, her parents had had her locked up like a crazy person without even trying to believe her. There was no possible explanation she could give now that wouldn't lead to drugs and straightjackets all over again.

Even after she'd let the doctors think that they'd cured her that first time and they'd let her go home, her parents had kept fighting over it, over _her_. And then one memorable day she'd heard Hank shouting something that had changed her perception of herself forever:

_She's not even really ours! Why don't you just give her back? That would solve all our problems!_

Back to who? Buffy hadn't dared ask, especially after the divorce. He'd still acted like he cared to her face, and Joyce never mentioned it, but Buffy couldn't un-know what she knew. She'd secretly broken into Joyce's locked files in search of clues, and sure enough, she'd found records of a private adoption and copies of once-yearly letters exchanged with a Dr. Samantha Carter. She'd done a little public research after that, some of it with Willow's help, and had unearthed a wealth of information.

Dr. Samantha Carter had turned out to be a brilliant, driven astrophysicist who held the rank of Captain in the Air Force; she was also blonde, tall, blue-eyed, and beautiful. Clearly, Buffy hadn't gotten her height from her, but there were other points of resemblance, enough to convince Buffy that the whole thing wasn't some terrible practical joke. She'd pilfered a picture of Dr. Carter and studied it often over the next couple of years, especially when things got rough between her and Joyce, daydreaming about what life with her _real_ mom might have been like. But there'd never been any real reason to act on it until this summer.

Buffy had taken that picture with her when she fled Sunnydale after Angel's death, staring at it frequently as she contemplated whether to try to make those dreams a reality. If going back meant rejection, and psych wards, and Destiny... going forward might be totally unknown, but there was no way it could be worse.

Two months had passed while she made up her mind and earned enough money to make the trip. She'd traced the route from the bus station to Dr. Carter's address on the map dozens of times, obsessively planning what she would say. And now that the day was finally here...

Buffy swallowed, put the map back in her pocket, and started walking. She probably should have called first, but it was too late now. Some part of her had been afraid that the woman might reject her out of hand long-distance, crush her hopes without even seeing her. This way, at least she'd get to look her in the eye, see first-hand what her reaction was without having to try and interpret it by sound. Buffy thought she deserved at least that much.

There hadn't been much in the way of detail in the return letters from Dr. Carter in Joyce's files, but there had been one near the top that mentioned another girl, an orphan she'd met last October. Dr. Carter had talked about how it made her think of "what might have been", and how she'd thought about adopting the girl, before the guilt about what she'd "given up", plus her work schedule, had led her to bow out in favor of some other woman she worked with. Surely that meant she'd be interested in at least _meeting_ Buffy? Hopefully even putting her up for a few days, helping her find a place to start over, if she still didn't want to keep her for herself?

Buffy wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she walked and tried to take deep breaths. Just a few more blocks, just a few more minutes, and she'd have her answers. She wanted to make a good first impression, and Panicky Buffy was not the way to get there.

"Buffy Anne Carter," she murmured to herself under her breath, hopefully. "Elizabeth Anne Carter?" It had a nice sound to it.

...Only a few more steps; this was the door, she'd found it at last.

Trembling a little, Buffy raised her hand and pressed the doorbell.

* * *

Sam looked up at the sound of the doorbell, slightly puzzled as to who might be coming to see her at this time of day. She still had a few days to go yet on her medical leave before Janet would clear her for missions again, and the doctor had stopped by already around lunchtime to see how she was doing. There was no one else who would know she was home this week besides her teammates, and it was way too early for the Colonel or Daniel to be on their way down from the Mountain.

Maybe Janet had sent Cassie by again? God, she hoped not. The look on the girl's face when Sam had threatened to kill her was still fresh in Sam's memory; it didn't matter that it hadn't really been her, it still _felt_ like it had been. It was a good thing she'd encouraged Janet to adopt Cassie instead of trying to fight for her herself; this incident just proved how unfit a mother she'd have been.

As if Sam hadn't known that already. She was reminded of it every January when the annual letter from her cousin Joyce arrived. Joyce had been older than her, already married, and infertile; when Sam refused to have an abortion, her father had arranged everything with the Summers family, insisted she keep her grades up in the meantime, and then pretended it had never happened the minute it was all over. If she'd the courage to do what she really wanted--

\--well, she wouldn't be here now, that was for sure. As an unwed teenage mother, she'd probably never have been able to join the Air Force, much less pursue the amazing career she'd had. Nor would she have met Daniel, Janet, or Colonel O'Neill. Did that make the abandonment more excusable, somehow? Did the thrill of stepping foot through an artificial wormhole and traveling to other planets outweigh the pain she knew her daughter must have gone through when Joyce and Hank divorced two years ago? But then again, would things have been any better if she'd kept Beth with her? She'd imagined it a time or two: working a job flipping burgers somewhere to pay for living expenses while doing college part-time, leaving her daughter with friends and family because she couldn't have afforded a babysitter...

Well, at least she'd probably have been spared her disastrous engagement to Jonas Hansen, she thought with a wry burst of humor.

The doorbell rang again, and Sam shook off her reverie. She wiped at her face with a tissue, hoping she looked at least somewhat presentable, and went to the front door. The peephole showed her a teenager, blonde haired, with a duffel over her shoulder; Sam had a feeling she should recognize her, but couldn't place her just from that distorted image. Whoever she was, she didn't look like a door-to-door salesman or an NID agent.

Sam sighed and undid the lock, but left the door chain on. No point taking chances. "Hello?" she asked carefully. "Can I help you?"

The girl took a step back, an almost fearful expression on her face, then lifted her chin and met Sam's eyes through the gap. "Captain Samantha Carter?" she asked, determinedly.

"Yes?" Sam answered, trying to place where she'd seen that green-hazel gaze before.

"I--" The girl said, then swallowed. "I'm Buffy," she said. "Um. Elizabeth, I mean. I'm-- I'm your daughter."

Sam froze, lifting a shocked hand to her mouth. Then, seeing the girl's expression start to droop in rejection, she hurriedly reached up, undid the chain, and threw the door wide. "You..." she said, then took a deep, shocked breath. "Beth?" She reached out a hand to touch the girl's cheek.

She recognized her now, from scattered photos received over the years, but she seemed so weary. And so short! She didn't get that from the Carters... but what was she doing here at all? Surely, she wouldn't have found out about Sam unless something terrible had happened to Joyce? Her mind whirled crazily as she stood there absorbing her daughter's presence.

Beth smiled tentatively at her, and Sam melted, reaching out to wrap the girl up in her arms. Maybe she'd be embarrassed later at how emotional she was still acting from what had happened with Jolinar, and maybe this was going to cause the very problems with her career that Janet had warned her about when they'd first discussed the problem of Cassie needing a home, but right now, Sam didn't care.

"Can I keep you?" she whispered into her daughter's hair.

Quietly, against her chest, Beth burst into tears.


	2. Fresh Start

Buffy's first day or so with her birth mother-- with Sam-- was very nearly idyllic. Sam had asked only a few questions about why she was there-- had something happened to Joyce, was she in physical danger back home, that kind of thing-- and then promised to give her space, let her spill the rest in her own time. They had at least until school started up again to get things settled, after all, and Sam thankfully appeared to be in no hurry to get rid of her.

Sam was also on medical leave for something classified she couldn't talk about, which made Buffy a little nervous, but it also meant a lot of uninterrupted 'getting to know you' time. They watched sappy movies together, discovering similar tastes in the old classics, ate a lot of ice cream, and talked in general terms about safe topics. Sam had a guest bedroom that she insisted Buffy take, and on Buffy's second day there she took her shopping for a few basic decorations to make the space more hers.

Buffy was busy hanging up the ice skating poster she'd picked for nostalgia value when the doorbell rang unexpectedly. She dropped the hammer in shock, then swore as it bounced off her foot; advanced Slayer healing didn't make the initial pain any less, from either cause. She should have known it wouldn't just be she and Sam in a bubble forever, no matter how protected and cared for it made her feel. Of course Sam had friends, and they'd want to know who she was.

Buffy picked up the hammer again, tension thrumming through the muscles in her back, as she waited for Sam to knock on her bedroom door and ask her to come out. She got the last tack in before it came; then she took a deep breath, admiring the elegant figure of Michelle Kwan curving her way across the Nagano ice, and went to the door to open it.

"Beth?" Sam looked almost as nervous as she did, which made her feel better. "I'd like to introduce you to someone, if you don't mind. A friend of mine-- she's also my doctor, and works at the same base I do. She, um, she has an adopted daughter a few years younger than you--"

"Cassie," Buffy said, realizing who it must be. "I saw her name in one of the letters you sent Mom, I mean, Joyce."

"You read the letters?" Sam asked in surprise, blonde eyebrows raised high. Then she shook her head and gave her an apologetic glance. "Sorry, I promised I wouldn't ask yet. Yes, this is Cassie's mom, Janet Frasier."

Buffy bit her lip, considering, then nodded. If she wanted to stay here-- if she wanted Sam to keep her-- it would probably be best to go along with whatever she wanted, at least for now. And really, there probably wasn't anything to be scared of. Dr. Frasier was Sam's friend; she wouldn't, couldn't, make Buffy go back to Sunnydale.

Buffy followed Sam back to the living room, a nervous, plastic smile pasted in place, then blinked and gave an actual smile as she saw the lady she was going to meet. The doctor had on heeled shoes at least two inches high, but without them she would have been shorter than Buffy by at least an inch. Finally, someone besides Jonathan Levinson who wasn't taller than she was!

"Janet, I want to introduce you to, um, Elizabeth Carter," Sam said. "Beth. Though she's been going by Buffy Summers for the last seventeen years." Then Sam fidgeted a little, glancing between Buffy and Dr. Frasier. She looked fairly calm, but Buffy could see the worry in her eyes.

"Carter?" Janet asked, surprise in her voice as she smiled pleasantly at Buffy, then turned a questioning gaze on Sam.

"Yes," Sam said quietly. "She's my daughter."

"Daughter?" That set Dr. Frasier back on her heels; her eyes widened a little, and she stared at Sam a little longer before turning back to Buffy. Then the calculating lines went out of her expression and she smiled at Buffy again, genuine welcome in the curve of her lips and the twinkle in her eyes. "I'm pleased to meet you," she said. "Do you go by Buffy now, or Beth?"

Buffy cleared her throat, glancing nervously at Sam again, as much to reassure her mother as herself. "I'm going by Beth," she said. "At least-- as long as I can stay. I came here for a fresh start." That was more than she'd even told Sam before, but she figured it was fairly safe to admit it.

"I see," Janet said. "Well, if you do settle here, I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot more of you," she said, a warmth of welcome in her voice that Buffy wanted very badly to trust. "I'll bring Cassie to meet you, and when Sam's gone on longer missions you'll probably be staying with me."

"Missions?" Buffy asked, turning to Sam in alarm. She knew Sam was in the Air Force, but she'd thought that since the Captain was stationed up at Cheyenne Mountain that she must have something like a desk job doing scientific research.

Sam winced. "Usually just short ones," she said apologetically. "Field surveying, stuff like that. It isn't always safe, but it's very valuable work-- I haven't had a chance to talk to my team leader yet, but I'll see if we can arrange something so I can stay back from the more dangerous missions from now on. There have to be other astrophysicists employed by the Air Force who can substitute for me occasionally."

She didn't look very enthusiastic about that-- it must really be an amazing job, though it didn't sound like much from her description-- but she was offering to bend her work to Buffy's needs, something that Hank Summers had never been willing to do. Even Joyce, with her more flexible schedule at the art gallery, had moved to Sunnydale as much because the financial climate was better there as from any concern that it would be the best for her daughter.

Buffy blinked as tears welled unexpectedly in her eyes, and she gave Sam a wavering smile. "Okay," she said. "I can deal."

Sam made a hesitant gesture, then rolled her eyes at herself and stepped toward Buffy, wrapping her up in a hug. Buffy leaned against her shoulder, feeling strangely safe there, and sniffled a little.

She knew she was going to have to mention the Slayer thing eventually, lay it out up front and honest. But until then, she was going to enjoy as much of this normal-girl fantasy as she could get. She had felt more loved and appreciated in the past twenty-four hours than she had in a long time back home. She missed her friends, and Giles, and even Joyce-- but they also reminded her too much of the tragedies and betrayals and grief she'd so recently endured. Colorado _was_ a fresh start, and Buffy intended to take as much advantage of that as she was allowed.

Maybe, in a couple of months, she'd write her friends-- but not just yet.


	3. Crossing Bridges

Sam walked down the ramp with her team, utterly exhausted after their several-day ordeal and half-panicking with worry. She'd been able to calm herself in the prison, telling herself that Janet would be taking good care of Beth while she was gone and there was nothing she could do until she got back to Earth anyway, but the closer she got to being able to leave base and go home, the worse she felt.

It had been the first time she'd ever left on a mission where she'd felt like she might be leaving something behind, like she might miss something important. In retrospect, she knew she should have paid attention to those feelings.

By the time they'd reached P2A-509 earlier that day, she'd been so distracted that she hadn't even been able to successfully argue her point with Colonel O'Neill about Linea; though he had agreed that the woman might have a lot to contribute, he had overruled her, saying that the scientist who'd helped them escape Hadante should stay offworld until they'd checked out a little more of her story and cleared her request for a visit with the chain of command. Sam couldn't help but think that if her head had been more fully in the game, she might have convinced him that any delay could seriously set back potential scientific progress-- but then again, that was why she'd decided to put in for a transfer off the team, wasn't it? She wouldn't give Beth up for anything, not now that the young woman had finally come back to her, but there was no way she could have her and SG-1 both.

General Hammond was waiting at the bottom of the ramp, and he shook his head at SG-1 in amazement as the team approached him. "Where in the name of Heaven did you come from?" he asked.

"Prison, actually," the Colonel replied flippantly. "We just broke out."

"Well, how?" Hammond asked, flabbergasted. "Your remote transmitters have been returned to us. SG-9 and I spent the last two days trying to negotiate your release. With no luck, I might add."

"Well, actually, we returned via P2A-509," Daniel spoke up.

Sam nodded, and put in her two cents. "Daniel remembered that SG-3 would be there, sir. Major Warren found us and was good enough to let us borrow a transmitter to open the iris."

Hammond shook his head. "Well, I'd like you all to report to the infirmary; we'll debrief after you've had a chance to rest."

The others nodded, wearily trooping toward the side door of the gate room. Sam moved to follow them, but the general stopped her with a gesture. "And Captain," he said, "I suggest you also place a call to Dr. Fraser's residence. There's a young woman there by the name of Beth Carter who's been very concerned about your welfare."

Sam winced at the knowing look-- and the questions-- in the General's kind eyes. "Yes, sir," she said. "I-- I've been meaning to ask you and Colonel O'Neill about withdrawing from the team as much as possible, at least for a couple of years."

He didn't look very surprised, but he did look disappointed, and Sam's heart sank even further. General Hammond and Sam's father were friends and contemporaries, and just as Jacob Carter's disappointment in her had always cut to the quick, Hammond's reaction made her feel guilty, as though she were personally letting him down.

She hastened to soften the blow. "There must be other astrophysicists out there who can fulfill the same function I do on a first contact team. Of course I'd be willing to return for missions on which my knowledge or skill set would be irreplaceable, but in general, I think I'll be more useful to the project here on base, working in the labs."

"You've thought this through," the general replied, neutrally.

Sam ducked her head. "I would have said something already, but this was just supposed to be a simple, one-day mission to an insignificant planet; I wanted at least one more mission under my belt before I announced my intent to leave the team. I just-- I wanted to make it clear that what happened with Jolinar had nothing to do with it."

"Things do have a way of becoming complicated where SG-1 is concerned," he replied, shaking his head. "I suggest you go home after the debriefing and come up with a specific plan of action for withdrawing from the team and a list of potential replacements; we can't afford to have the team out of action for any longer than is necessary."

"Yes, sir," Sam said, quickly.

"Dismissed, Captain," Hammond nodded, his expression more sympathetic now. "And-- good luck telling Colonel O'Neill."

She shuddered. "Thank you, sir; I'm sure I'll need it," she said ruefully, then turned to follow the others to the infirmary.

* * *

The phone call had been a huge relief to Buffy's frazzled nerves, but Sam's return still didn't feel real to her until hours later, when the wayward Captain-Doctor finally pulled up out front of her home.

Buffy still didn't understand how an Air Force astrophysicist based in Colorado could ever end up assigned to field missions, much less an extremely dangerous one that could balloon up from the quick, in-and-out, one-afternoon jaunt Sam had promised into a days-long, 'we can't tell you anything, miss' utter nightmare. She had been fully prepared to like Janet when Sam had introduced them to each other several days before, but she'd been almost ready to throttle the woman and run again after the third or fourth "I'm sorry" had fallen from her lips.

Buffy didn't have a very good track record with people leaving her. Or her leaving people. Merrick, her adoptive father, Pike, Angel, even Joyce-- they were all either dead, or had burnt the bridges so thoroughly between them as to pretty much accomplish the same thing. When the news had first come about Sam, she'd just known there had to be Someone up there laughing at her, gleefully destroying her last hope for anything like a normal life before it ever got off the ground.

She was very, very glad to have been proved wrong. But she wasn't sure she could take it if this was going to be a regular staple of her stay in Colorado. One scare could be the accident it sounded like-- if it became two or three, it would mean Sam had been lying.

They'd cross that bridge when they came to it, though. Tonight, she was going to just enjoy the view of the pyramids, ignore her wet feet, and--

"Beth?" Sam's voice sounded from the doorway, both hesitant and hopeful.

Buffy looked up from the couch where she'd decided to wait that evening and took in the exhausted lines of her birth mother's features, framed in the entryway. It was dark outside, and the yellow tones of the hall-light made Sam look even worse than she probably felt, but it was still enough to make Buffy bolt impulsively up off the couch and hug her.

"I'm so glad you're back," she said. "I thought-- They wouldn't tell me anything, and I--"

"I know," Sam said, hugging her back. "I was so worried about you the whole time I was gone. I only just got you back, and there I was, leaving you behind-- I felt so guilty--"

"It's okay," Buffy said, blinking fiercely as a few tears tried to surface. "Just-- just don't do it again, okay?"

Sam paused a long moment, long enough for Buffy to pull back and frown up into the taller woman's troubled blue gaze. "I can't guarantee that," she finally said, mouth drawn into unhappy lines.

Buffy tried to take a deep breath, but it felt as though a fist had squeezed around her heart. "I-- I understand," she said. "Your job is all national security important. I never should've--"

"No, that's not it," Sam said urgently, shaking her head. "It's just-- I thought this last mission was going to be a walk in the park, and we both know how well that turned out. They might need my skills out in the field again, and I can't refuse them if they ask. But-- I did speak to my boss about transferring off that team for non-emergency missions, and he agreed to consider it."

Buffy swallowed, absorbing that. She _had_ lived up to her promise, then, after all. And the concessions-- it was like Buffy deciding not to Slay anymore, except for apocalypses, in which case of course she wasn't going to stick around and watch the world go to Hell.

She'd be a total hypocrite if she objected.

She'd be worse than that, though, if she let this opportunity go by without at least admitting that she had a few dangerous skeletons in her closet, too.

"Sam--" she began, then took a deep breath. "M-mom? There's something else we need to talk about, too."


	4. Challenging Assumptions

Captain Samantha Carter sighed and shuffled through the pile of file folders on her desk again, idly checking the front sheet in each one to see if there might have been some pertinent detail she'd missed. How could it possibly be so difficult to find even a temporary replacement for her position on SG-1? Of course her clearance level was a factor, and her degree of education and experience, not to mention her fitness and desire for a field position-- but even so, there had to be _dozens_ of would-be astronauts like she'd been before joining the SGC who would leap at the chance to step into a role on a first contact and exploration team.

Unfortunately, most of the best options currently employed by the SGC-- Lieutenant Altman, for example-- already had SG team assignments, and Sam hated to break up _two_ functioning units just because she'd chosen to reduce the risk that she might not come home to her newly rediscovered daughter. Those who did _not_ have assignments were mostly civilian, and the options were... something less than inspirational. Dr. Lee was intelligent, but lacked the imagination and desire a regular field role required; Dr. Felger was almost _too_ imaginative and adventurous; Dr. Hamilton would be a disaster on any team with mixed military and scientific goals; and so on, and so forth. Some were disastrously out of shape, some had already expressed opinions that would discourage their placement on the same team with an alien and former enemy combatant like Teal'c, and some would simply be a terrible fit overall.

A scientist who lacked self-assurance would be a liability in difficult situations when their contribution could be crucial, for example. Too _much_ arrogance would be equally problematic, though, especially when dealing with a commanding officer like Colonel O'Neill. She could just imagine Jack's reaction to Dr. Rodney McKay, one of the more prominent consultants employed by Area 51; genius or not, the man's tendency to behave as though he were the gravitational center of his own universe would cause considerable friction, to put it mildly. Dr. Henry Deacon would be a far better choice-- he'd worked for NASA for years and had all the necessary qualifications without the arrogance-- but last she'd heard he was being courted by a think tank out in Oregon run by one of his former protégées.

She closed the last folder with a frown and propped her chin up on her hands, thoughts drifting from one seemingly insoluble problem to the other currently haunting her. Beth. No, Buffy; that _was_ her daughter's name, ridiculous as it was, and she really should start using it. The other nickname still reminded Sam more of the tiny baby she'd given up seventeen years ago than the moody, vulnerable teenager taking refuge with her now. While she'd accepted and catered to Buffy's obvious desire for a safe, reminder-free space prior to the other night's revelations, she wasn't sure that would be the best option for them going forward.

There were no two ways about it; Sam simply couldn't unhear what her daughter had told her. It was time to either declare Buffy disturbed and sign her up for therapy-- a tactic that had not worked for Joyce, and could easily drive the troubled young woman to run away again-- or accept that she had told Sam the truth as she saw it, and _support_ her. In either case it wouldn't serve either of them to pretend nothing had changed, or to let Buffy continue to hide from the past that had driven her there.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Dr. Frasier said, poking her head in at the door.

Sam sat up straighter in her chair and gave her red-haired friend a tired smile. "I think they're worth more on the order of sixty-four thousand dollars today," she said wryly.

Janet's eyebrows went up; then she smiled sympathetically and walked further into the room, carefully shutting the door behind her. "Impossible questions? And I'm guessing they have more to do with your daughter than choosing a replacement," she said, taking a seat in front of Sam's desk.

"Is it that obvious? Or is the voice of experience speaking?" Sam asked her.

"Honestly?" Janet replied. "A little of both. You do seem tired and a little worried, and most of the base has heard about your daughter by now; I think anyone could guess as much. Specifically, though, I _am_ raising a girl from a completely alien culture. Cassie's a delight-- she's bright, and caring, and I look forward to seeing the woman she's going to grow up to become-- but she does have unique challenges, when her basic assumptions about the way the world works unexpectedly clash with ours. I've seen that expression you're wearing in the mirror several times, when she's said something that I'm completely unsure how to handle."

Sam stared at Janet a minute as the comparison percolated through weary thoughts, then shook her head with a laugh. "I hadn't thought about it that way before," she said. "You're right, it really is as though she's from a completely different culture-- and I'm not talking about California. That could explain her stranger abilities and experiences, as well."

Janet stared back at her, startled. "Strange experiences?" she said. "Are you telling me you have reason to believe that Beth has had contact with nonhuman beings? How? And why haven't you said anything before?"

"She hadn't told me before," Sam said. "I think she was worried that I'd react badly, like Joyce did, but after the team got back from Hadante she told me she thought I should know the real reason she came here."

Janet nodded thoughtfully at that. "She'd already faced the idea of losing you when you were two days overdue," she said, solemnly. "It would have hurt less for you to reject her then, than if it had happened later on when she wasn't prepared for it." She paused then, studying Sam's expression in more depth. "You _didn't_ reject her, did you?"

Sam shook her head vehemently. "No. I just-- it's been a little awkward. I've had a hard time believing some of the things she's told me, but I don't want to send her away again, either. But if I reframe the problem as though she were from another planet instead of Sunnydale-- not literally, but in that I've been making certain assumptions regarding what is and is not possible based on the normal range of human experiences-- her story doesn't seem quite as crazy."

Who would ever believe in parasitic worms able to physically invade a victim's brain and take over control of their bodies, if they'd hadn't seen proof for themselves? The very existence of the Stargate was testimony that other intelligent species had set foot on Earth in the past; was it so impossible to believe that some may have stayed behind five thousand years ago when the rebels in Egypt buried the 'gate? And that some among those had tampered with human genetics? In a universe where a woman who knew nothing of modern technology could create organically based cold fusion, Sam was willing to concede that anything was possible. It just hadn't occurred to her to extend that concept to her own planet... and daughter. Obviously, the truth had become corrupted over the millennia, with those in the know identifying alien beings as various types of 'demons' and deciding people with unusual powers were 'Slayers' or 'magicians', and Buffy had been unlucky enough to get caught up in it.

"She didn't go into the _how_ very much," she told Janet. "I was a little overwhelmed with just the basics. But she said she's been facing creatures she calls 'vampires' for years now, which she describes as dead humans reanimated by parasitic spirits; and three years ago she was approached by a scholar who told her that she had unique abilities that would enable her to find and kill them."

"I see why you said it sounded crazy," Janet replied, wide-eyed. "Vampires? If they really exist, why haven't we seen proof of their existence?"

"Why do people keep anything dangerous secret?" Sam shrugged. "Why haven't we told the world at large that there is a very real risk of alien invasion now that the Goa'uld are aware of us again? Maybe there _is_ a military project set up to deal with so-called 'demons'-- and they happen to be as classified as we are."

"And Beth said she was _fourteen_ when she was recruited to deal with them?" Janet's perturbed expression shifted to something a little more horrified. "Girls that age should have to worry about homework and boyfriends, not inhuman monsters. Who in their right minds would approach a _teenager_ instead of an adult to fight their battles for them?"

"I know," Sam said, shaking her head. "It's no wonder Joyce flipped out. I finally called her a couple of days ago when Buffy was busy-- I'd sent her a letter when Buffy first arrived to let her know that her daughter was safe, but that she didn't want to be found yet-- and got more of the story. Joyce wanted to come get her immediately, but I think I managed to get through to her that Buffy's just not ready for that, and that we both might lose her entirely if she does something rash."

"What exactly did Joyce do?" Janet asked, frowning. "You've said before that Beth-- or Buffy, if she's started using that name again--?"

Sam nodded. "She answers to it more easily than Beth, anyway, and now that she's brought the past up herself...." She trailed off with a shrug.

Janet nodded at that. "You said that she seemed traumatized, but that she also seemed more angry at Joyce than afraid of her. It wasn't an abusive relationship?"

"No. Not physically, anyway. But the first time Buffy tried to talk to her about her... gifts, she and Hank put Buffy in an insane asylum for several weeks rather than even trying to listen." Sam tightened her jaw at that, still furious several days after first hearing about it. "So she stopped talking, and just kept that part of her life a secret from then on. When it finally came up again a couple of months ago, Joyce again refused to believe her, and basically told her not to come back home. Joyce admits she didn't think Buffy would actually follow through on that-- she was angry, and didn't really mean it-- but after her previous experiences, Buffy had no reason not to believe her."

Janet sighed. "Then I think you did the right thing, calling her. She raised Buffy for seventeen years, and she has a right to know her daughter's okay. But I also think you're right not to insist that Buffy see her again before she's ready. It would probably harm more than it helped, especially since Buffy was stubborn enough to live on her own for two months before deciding to come to you."

"Exactly. I just hope she doesn't change her mind and decide to report me for kidnapping. Buffy'll be eighteen in about six months, but until then she's legally Joyce's responsibility."

Janet studied her a moment more, then reached across the desk and clasped Sam's hand. "I don't think she will," she said, "not if she loves Buffy, too. I'm proud of you, Sam; Buffy's made your life a lot more difficult the last few weeks, but you've stuck with her, like you stuck with Cassie when we all thought the naquadah bomb was going to kill her. You're a good mother."

Sam swallowed and pressed her lips together until the urge to cry abated a little. "I hope I can live up to that." Then she chuckled raggedly as something else occurred to her. "And that my father doesn't completely freak out when I tell him. I'll have to, and pretty soon, or General Hammond will do it for me after that scene in the Gateroom the other day." She covered her face again with her hands.

"But she's worth it, right?" Janet asked, softly.

"Yes, she's worth it." Sam looked up again, eyes wet, and smiled at her friend. "Thank you, Janet. You've really helped me today."

"You're welcome," Janet replied, then stood up again and began prying the folders out from under Sam's elbows to stack them on the edge of the desk. "Now go home to your daughter, and worry about _this_ problem tomorrow. If you can get her to agree to come to the Academy Hospital sometime soon for a check of those unique 'gifts' you mentioned, I'll gladly verify them for you-- I can keep the reports classified unless there's a Goa'uld or something equally dangerous involved-- but don't push her on that, either."

Sam didn't argue. It had been a long day already, and if she left early, she and Buffy would have enough time for a trip up to Denver that evening.

According to Buffy, all larger cities had at least a handful of 'demon' residents, and though she had no plans to go back to hunting them full-time, she'd tentatively offered to accompany Sam to the city for a little "show and tell". Sam hadn't been sure whether she ought to take Buffy up on that, but now-- well. She'd take a zat'ni'katel with her, and an open mind. If it turned out that everything Buffy had told Sam was true-- they'd cross that bridge when they came to it, but if Sam had anything to say about it, Buffy would never have to face her 'destiny' alone, ever again.

'Slayer' or not, she was Sam's daughter; and now that Sam had her back, she was never letting go.

\---


	5. Hold On To Me As We Go

Captain Samantha Carter took a deep breath, then let it out again, trying to let all her worries about SG-1's new mission out with it. The mission she wasn't there for, because she'd withdrawn from the field for all but critical emergencies to be a bigger presence in the labs-- and in her daughter's life.

Colonel O'Neill, Daniel, and Teal'c had taken Dr. Lee with them today instead, intending to eventually rotate through half the program's astrophysicists to test for best fit since none of them had really stood out above the others on paper. Bill was intelligent enough, if a bit unsuited to regular active trips through the gate; hopefully, everything would go well. According to Daniel, it was supposed to be a simple mission to a garden world with signs of advanced inhabitants; no Goa'uld influence, either, to judge by the architectural images the MALP had sent back. They would be _fine_.

Unless, of course, like so many other simple missions in the past, something were to go disastrously wrong within her field of expertise....

Sam shook her head, dismissing the pessimistic thought. If she were out there and that _did_ happen, she'd be delayed in coming home to her daughter _again_, something she'd promised not to do any more if it was at all avoidable. And it was a mistake of ego to think herself that irreplaceable, anyway; if she really _was_ the only hard scientist the SGC could depend on in the field, it would be a serious weakness for the program.

Either way she looked at it, if she wasn't doing _the_ one universal right thing, she was at least doing _a_ right thing; the right thing for her and for Buffy, and maybe even for the SGC by making her skills more available to the program as a whole. Being out of the field didn't necessarily mean their universe would fall to pieces like the one they'd seen through the quantum mirror, with its civilian Dr. Carter; there were too many other points of difference between them for her to fall for that logical fallacy. Right?

Sam laughed ruefully at herself, then checked her watch again and began packing up for the day. The SGC had her phone number, if worse came to worst, and in the meanwhile, she had _another_ project of equal importance to work on. She was supposed to meet her daughter for dinner and a stroll through the nightlife of Denver. They'd had to postpone their original intended expedition a couple of times-- once for a surprise call from a friend of Buffy's who'd apparently spent half the summer hacking transportation systems around the country until she found her, and another for SGC business that was fortunately easily resolved from the base-- but tonight would hopefully be the night Buffy would finally show her proof of the wilder parts of her story. Sam was looking forward to having that tension over with.

It wasn't that she _doubted_ Buffy, really. The wounds her daughter's adoptive mother had left when she'd rejected Buffy's story not once, but twice, would not have struck nearly so deep if the teenager hadn't really and truly believed in it herself. Joyce may have meant her actions to be helpful rather than harmful, but even if Buffy was in any position right now to understand that, it made them no less hurtful. Her desire to run away and start over wasn't petulance; it was real heartache that a vital part of her perceived identity had been written off as insanity or lies not once, but twice, by the person she felt should have believed in her, no matter what. Sam wasn't going to be the next person to add to that pain.

She _did_ think it likely, though, that whatever Buffy had encountered and interpreted as 'magic' and 'vampires' and the like was actually the effects of alien technology and creatures transported to Earth from other planets for who knew what reason. If the mentor who'd trained her was part of a tradition that had seen sufficiently advanced technology centuries ago and calcified their means of combating it in the only way they'd found that worked, that might explain some of the more horrifying parts of what they'd done to Buffy, throwing her into their war at the tender age of fourteen. The Goa'uld had mostly stayed away during the five thousand years the Stargate was buried, but they weren't the only race out there. Who knew what strange things had yet to be discovered about their own planet's history, never mind the worlds they explored out among the stars?

To that end, Sam picked up a box full of sensors, recording equipment, and other items she'd decided to take with her on the trip, and left the office for the night. The only people she'd discussed Buffy's story with so far were Janet and General Hammond; Janet mostly for the listening ear, but Hammond for permission to take the equipment. Contrary to expectation, he hadn't asked too many questions, only that she not discuss her findings with anyone other than her daughter before running them by him.

Apparently, her earlier speculation had been fairly close to the truth; there _was_ a classified military project assigned to deal with the 'supernatural', though the general didn't know much more about it than its name and vague purpose. The risk of her investigation being shut down before she came to any conclusions, or of bringing Buffy to the attention of some shadowy government group with unknown motives, was more than reason enough for her to agree to keep it quiet.

Buffy was already ready to go when she got to the house, clothed like she was going out clubbing, but paler than usual with an extra dose of plastic in her often brittle smile. She also had a suspiciously heavy duffel of her own waiting at the front door. Sam slid the zipper down enough to raise her eyebrows at the collection of swords, pointy pieces of wood, and other recognizable weapons inside, and wonder how often Buffy actually used any of them; she hated to think of her daughter as a killer of dangerous animals at best, or more likely a vigilante, depending on the true nature of the things she fought.

Not a murderer, though; not after all the injuries she'd suffered, and the people she'd lost along the way. She rarely spoke of them, but the grief ran visibly close under the surface at times, tainted with anger turned back against herself. One thing Sam was going to have to arrange, if Buffy did attend school in Colorado rather than Sunnydale this year, was counseling for her; but it would be tricky to find someone she would talk to.

"You sure you're up for this?" she asked, looking up to catch Buffy watching her with the determined, stern expression that had only rarely made an appearance since her arrival in Colorado Springs: the one Buffy called her Resolve Face. "I know you came here partially to get away from this kind of thing, and you don't really need to prove anything to me." She could always take Teal'c and follow the clues Buffy had let drop already to do her own investigation, if it would save her daughter more stress.

Buffy's expression turned distinctly skeptical at that. "Most people who say things like that already think I'm crazy, you realize. Though it's a nice twist, being asked if I _want_ to go do my so-called destiny, rather than being asked if I've tried _not_ being the Slayer."

On the one hand, it was nice to see some of the assertive spirit Joyce's annual letters had always spoken of returning to her daughter; on the other, no girl her age should need to be that cynical and self-defensive. That was one thing Sam had always hoped not to pass on; one of the reasons Buffy hadn't been raised as Elizabeth Anne Carter. 

"You realize I was younger than you when I thought my life was completely over," she parried, speaking baldly of it with her daughter for the first time. "And of all the people in my life who had an opinion about how I should deal with it-- the only ones who were happy with my decision were your parents. I know things haven't been as rosy for you as I hoped they would be back then; and not just because of the Slayer issue. But I bring it up now because I know what it's like to feel that alone in your decisions, and that convinced you're doing the right thing anyway. It's been kind of a theme for me, actually; I know we haven't spoken much about my career, but I'd be surprised if you didn't know plenty already about it before you came here."

Buffy's frown faded into something a lot more thoughtful-- and dare she think it, even a little hopeful? Well, if embarrassing herself for Buffy's sake was what it took to get through to her daughter on more than a surface level, Sam would do it, and be glad to.

"Don't repeat this-- especially not to Colonel O'Neill, because I'd prefer not to remind him of it, ever-- but I was still carrying a pretty big chip on my shoulder about that when I was transferred here. So... for the better part of my adult life, more or less. When we met, I was trying to justify my inclusion in-- well, it's classified, but he took one look at me and basically said, 'Another scientist. _Please_.' And I said to him...." 

She trailed off, well aware of how warm her cheeks were getting, then tipped her chin up as Buffy's expression sharpened with intrigued curiosity; it gave her the strength to continue. "I told him, 'I'm an Air Force officer just like you are, Colonel, and just because my reproductive organs are on the inside instead of the outside, doesn't mean I can't handle whatever you can handle.'"

Buffy clapped a hand over her mouth as a surprised giggle slipped out; it faded quickly, but her eyes were still dancing when she lowered the hand a moment later. "Wow. Okay. Maybe I _do_ get the fierce thing from more than just Mom. Joyce, I mean. Did I tell you, she clobbered a vampire over the head once with a fire axe to defend me? Not that she _believed_ he was a vampire at the time, or anything."

Sam smiled back. "It really _is_ okay if you call us both Mom, you know. Or neither. Whatever you're comfortable with; it won't hurt my feelings."

The line of Buffy's shoulders relaxed a little more, and she gave Sam a wry smile. "So since he's still like your boss and all, I'm guessing the power of snark was strong with him, too?"

Sam's grin widened. "Yeah. Turns out it's scientists he has an issue with, not women; and even that wasn't a problem once I proved I wasn't just a token soldier. So-- whatever my hang-ups with the issue of science versus magic, they're my issues, not yours; but I don't doubt that the things you've seen and experienced _exist_. I want to see them for myself, and make my own observations, so I can understand and deal with them in my own terms, because I _am_ a scientist; but I wouldn't presume to tell you not to be who you clearly are, regardless of anyone else's approval."

She might not like how young Buffy was when she'd got sucked into that secret world of hers, either; but she also knew better than to try to stuff that genie back in the bottle. Some things, once broken, couldn't _be_ fixed, not even with gold seaming. Innocence was one of them. 

Tears welled up in Buffy's eyes, rather abruptly; and then five foot and change of blonde teenager flung herself into Sam's arms, nearly knocking her down before she caught her balance. It was-- awkward. And kind of nice? Sam didn't know quite how she should react; but she made her best attempt at hugging back, feeling a little bewildered and uncertain but also sort of pleased, relieved, and maybe a little bit proud, too.

+

Those feelings returned even more strongly a few hours later, as she stood over the torn-open grave of a recently deceased 'animal attack' victim, coughing through a lung-full of dust at her daughter.

The teeth, the yellow eyes, the ridged forehead; okay, regardless of its origin, that was definitely the being that had spawned the legend of _vampires_. Startlingly like the Goa'uld in some ways, including possession of a host body to grant greater reach and intelligence... but in others, very definitively _not_.

"Holy Hannah. You just folded and spindled the laws of physics right in front of me!" she said incredulously, wondering where the hell the sensor she'd slapped it with just before Buffy punctured it through the heart with a wooden stake had gone... and how on earth the stake itself had survived. "And you've done that _how_ many times?"

"Uh... lots?" Buffy shrugged, sheepishly. "I used to patrol almost every night, and in Sunnydale, there was almost always something to take care of or investigate. You wouldn't believe some of the out-of-towners we got."

Sam suppressed a snort at that; if she only knew. "But the only explanation you have for why it works is _magic_? I mean, regardless of what kind of wood that is, it's just one set of dead cells piercing another, which does nothing to explain how the stake itself remains intact but the vampire's clothes disintegrate, no matter how new they are... does _anybody_ study that kind of stuff?"

"That's... a good question, actually," Buffy replied, looking pained. "I sorta knew one woman who used both computers and magic-- but she wasn't one of the tweedy types who're supposed to be in charge of The One Girl in All the World, so." She shrugged.

"Well, I know what _I'm_ doing with my free time, then," Sam said, and spontaneously reached out to hug Buffy again.

Buffy came to her even more easily this time. "I didn't want to just assume," she said, sounding a little watery, "'cause, you know. Vampires, dust everywhere, tracking blood in the house, suspicious bruises all the time. And I do want to go back, to visit. But. If you still wanna keep me... can I still stay?"

"Of course you can," Sam said, hugging her back. It would be complicated, on a legal level; and this whole vampire thing promised a level of intrigue Sam wasn't sure yet how they'd manage to navigate. What if creatures like this existed off world, and an SG-team ran into them, all unsuspecting? But on its most basic level, the answer was easy; and Sam gave it without a qualm. 

"You'll always have a home with me, no matter what."


End file.
